


Tunnel of Love

by orphan_account



Category: IT (1990), IT (2017)
Genre: 90s Pennywise, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Biting, Come Marking, Control Issues, Creepy, Daddy Kink, Daddywise, Derry Sucks, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Eldritch, F/M, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Large Cock, Marking, Monsters, One Shot, POV Female Character, Pennywise is his own Warning, Pet Names, Possessive Behavior, Prequel, Prequel to My Funny Valentine, Rough Sex, Running Away, Size Kink, Smut, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation, Weird Plot Shit, references to eating people, references to murder, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-15 10:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Second prequel to 'My Funny Valentine.' You’re still set on leaving Derry, even after Daddy Penny warned you off the idea, but the clown is not gonna make it easy for you.And the carnival is in town tonight...1990!Penny/Reader, established relationship, yada-yada-yada. As always, you can imagine 2017!Penny, if that's your bag.Enjoy!





	Tunnel of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mualhani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mualhani/gifts), [Beastlybfs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beastlybfs/gifts), [DJSpidersGeorg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJSpidersGeorg/gifts).



> Another prequel to ‘My Funny Valentine’ 
> 
> Still working on the sequel, which will again feature both versions of Pennywise, but I hope this will tide you all over, you lovely trash people.
> 
> I’m churning these out at a ridiculous rate, trying to get it out of my system; I have a life, I swear! A very busy life, actually, but I’m not sleeping very well at the moment so I have a little free time in the evenings, which I’m spending drinking wine and knocking out clown smut. 
> 
> Why am I justifying this? Sigh.
> 
> Recommended playlist:  
> Bigmouth Strikes Again ~ The Smiths  
> Queen of Disaster ~ Lana del Rey  
> Summertime Sadness ~ Lana del Rey  
> Tag, You’re It ~ Melanie Martinez  
> My Boy Builds Coffins ~ Florence and the Machine  
> Closer ~ Nine Inch Nails  
> Badlands ~ Bruce Springsteen  
> Bones ~ The Killers  
> Somebody That I Used to Know ~ Gotye  
> I Like it Rough ~ Lady Gaga  
> Monster ~ Lady Gaga  
> The Song of Solomon ~ Kate Bush  
> Tunnel of Love ~ Dire Straits

Friday night in Derry.

The heatwave has finally broken, just in time for the carnival rolling into town. At any other time, you’d be heading down there with your friends or with your sister, eager to take in the fun, but you’re in no mood for it tonight.

Instead, you’re packing, shoving clothes into a large holdall and trying to ignore the plaintive meows of your cat, Frank, as he winds himself around your ankles, almost tripping you up as you hustle around the bedroom.

It’s been almost two weeks since you last saw Pennywise, almost two weeks since you had made the foolish mistake of mentioning your plan to leave Derry and he had warned you off the idea. You had made a point to take extra shifts at work, just to avoid him, but you know that the clown could turn up here at any moment, looking for you. He’s done it before. Still, you’re vaguely hopeful that the arrival of the carnival will keep him busy. It’s the last chance for the kids of Derry to run wild, before the end of summer vacation. They’ll be out in force tonight, all of them, but they’ll be back at school soon enough, just out of reach. And then the long nights will set in, dark and cool, and their parents will impose curfew, fearful for the safety of their children. Perhaps the police will set a curfew, too. They had done it before, during the height of the killings and the disappearances. Not that it made much of a difference, really.

_Yes, the carnival is too good of an opportunity for Pennywise to pass up._

He needs to hunt, to _feed_ and feed _well_ , before the end of summer.

_And you’ll be gone tonight, on the road to Providence._

_Long_ gone, before he realises that you have chosen to defy him. You hope so, anyway. You’ve spent the last two weeks building up the courage to make your move, packing and unpacking your bag every other day, but you know that this is your last chance.

You need to get a head-start on him, and this is cutting it close. _Too_ close, perhaps.

You pause in the middle of your frantic packing, reaching down to pluck a stray orange pom-pom out of the pile of clothes folded upon your bed. Your chest tightens and you close your fingers around it, your stomach lurching violently.

_Penny._

Geez, even now, after _everything_ , there is a small part of you that wants to stay in Derry, for him. It’s so irrational, so depressing and _disgusting_ , but you are actually _heartbroken_ , at the thought of leaving him behind.

Yeah, he’s an eldritch abomination. He’s a child-killer, a child- _eater_ , a shape-shifting creature from beyond the stars. And most of the time, he’s not even pleasant to be around, if you’re entirely honest. He’s abrasive and moody, possessive and unpredictable; but he can also be thoughtful, charming, and ridiculously _funny_ …and he’s the best _fuck_ you’ve ever had, without question.

You smile, rubbing the orange fluff between your hands, and then you slip it into the pocket of your jeans, sighing as you turn your attention to the holdall on the bed, and to the mountain of clothes beside it.

_Damn, I’m gonna miss that old bastard._

No turning back now, though. Your car is packed, your mother has the spare keys to the house, and you’ve taken a few weeks leave from your job at the diner. You just need to finish up here and drop Frank off with your parents. _Done and dusted._

This is just what you need; a long vacation, away from Derry.

Suddenly, there is a knock at the front door. Your heart stutters, thudding wildly against your ribcage, and you lift Frank into your arms, clutching him against your chest.

 _Can’t be Penny_ , you think, _He wouldn’t knock._

_Unless he’s trying to trick me._

You stay where you are, your mind racing. Frank squirms against you, irritated by the tightness of your hold upon him.

And then, you hear the mail slot lifting, clanging shut and lifting again, and a voice calls up to you, shrill with alcohol and merriment.

“Hey, {y/n}! You home? We’re going to the carnival, get your ass down here!”

_Your best friend._

Other voices join the fray and you head downstairs, chuckling at their rowdiness, with Frank yowling indignantly in your arms. You open the door to find your four closest friends standing there, huddled on the porch, each clutching a can of beer and beaming happily at you.

“Hey guys, what’s happening?”

Your best friend rolls their eyes, “The carnival, {y/n}. Look, I know you’re leaving for Providence tonight, but you can’t miss it! It’s tradition!”

You sigh, “I really don’t have time, guys. I should be leaving now, to make good time, but I’m running behind. Too many shoes.” You try to inject some humour into your voice but your friends are not buying the lame excuse, rolling their eyes and jeering.

“I’m running behind. Give me a break, {y/n}.” Your best friend mimics you, in a jeering tone, “Geez, you’re turning into such an old fart.”

“And a crazy cat lady.” Another friend pipes up, weaving drunkenly on the spot, “C’mon {y/n}.”

“Guys, I really can’t…”

Your best friend cuts in, their eyes serious and plaintive, “Look, this is probably the last time we’re gonna see you in like, _forever_. Please, {y/n}?”

And just like that, you feel yourself caving in; their enthusiasm is infectious.

_Why not?_

_Why shouldn’t you have a little fun, on your last night in town?_

_Go out on a high…_

You duck inside, grabbing your purse and ushering Frank into the lounge, and then you lock up and grab your best friend’s hand.

“Let’s go, losers!”

You head into the night, laughing and exchanging good-natured insults, and the warmth of the alcohol seeps into your bones, making you feel giddy and reckless.

The carnival awaits, glowing in the darkness, and you smile; a genuine smile, for the first time in weeks.

_Time to say goodbye, Derry._

You lose yourself in the heady atmosphere of the carnival. It’s one of the few times of the year that Derry feels _right_ to you; everyone seems to come alive at the carnival, leaving their fears and worries at the gate.

You gorge yourself on popcorn and beer, you ride the dodgem cars and the Tilt-a-Whirl until you feel like puking, and you shriek like a kid on the ghost train, even though it’s ridiculous and not scary at all. You even take a spin on the old wooden rollercoaster, which has long been decried as a death trap in waiting, and then your friends are dragging you towards the Tunnel of Love, pairing off and squabbling over petty things, as always.

There are five of you and you’re resigned to riding solo, but then your best friend nudges you, gesturing at a familiar face, just ahead of you in the queue. _Ugh. Your old high-school crush._ He seems to sense that you’re staring at him and he grins, holding out a hand to you. To be honest, you’re completely over him and have been for years, but you still think he’s a great guy and you don’t want to go it alone. You’re not _that_ much of loser.  Your friends make gross noises behind you, wet kissy noises, but you ignore them and climb into the little canoe, next to your partner. It’s a tight fit and you’re squashed up next to him, blushing in the darkness, but he just cracks up laughing and that sets you off, too. You’re both laughing as the boat moves into the tunnel, creaking and jolting along the underwater track.

He puts his arm around you, once you’re out of sight and the cheesy music starts playing overhead, and you roll your eyes at him.

“I always did like you, {y/n}.”

You glance up at him, startled, but you can see that he’s joking. You stick your tongue out at him and that starts you both up laughing again.

After the ride, you say your goodbyes and he wishes you all the best, and then you head over to the cotton candy stall, to grab a bite and wait for your friends to emerge from the tunnel. You close your eyes, relishing the bass of the music and the heat of lights upon your upturned face, and the sticky sweetness of the sugar upon your lips.

And then, the hairs stand up at the back of your neck, and you open your eyes to see a figure in the distance, waiting in the darkness beside the ghost train.

_Pennywise._

He beckons and, against your will, you move towards him, into the shadows. He’s dressed in the usual get-up and he’s holding a red balloon. You repress a shudder, wondering how many kids will be reported missing by this time tomorrow. The clown following the direction of your gaze and smirks, tugging the string to make the balloon bob and dance in the air.

“Should have told me that you were comin’ down here, babydoll. I’d have saved a balloon for you. This is my last one, but you can have it, if you really want it.”

You manage a smile, “Don’t worry about it, Pen. I wasn’t gonna come, but I’ve been working so hard lately, I think I deserve a night off.” You struggle for words, you’re so nervous, and you end up saying the first thing that comes into your head, “I was hungry too. Thought I’d grab something to eat.”

Penny grins, showing sharp teeth, “Me too.”

_Fuck._

_Wish I hadn’t said that._

“I’ve missed you, baby.”

You flush, your voice small and strangely wistful, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too.”

The clown pulls you into his arm, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss against your mouth. He licks his lips, chuckling, “Mmm, you taste so _sweet_ , {y/n}. Could just eat you up.”

He draws away, the smile slowly fading from his face. You feel your stomach drop, sensing trouble.

“I guess I’m not the only one who likes the way you taste. Who's the guy?”

_Shit._

_That stupid fucking Tunnel of Love._

_Oh, shit._

You find it hard to believe that he doesn’t know; he must know the name of every person in Derry. But you humour him, figuring that it’s safer that way. You know better than to feign ignorance.

“He’s just a friend, Pen. An old school friend.”

Penny snorts, “Oh, just a _friend_. I see. Only, you seemed pretty _cosy_ back there.”

“We were just goofing around.”

He growls, advancing upon you, until you’re lost in his shadow, “Shouldn’t you be heading home now, {y/n}? Still got a lot to do, before you hit the road. Gotta finish packing, gotta swing by to see your folks, drop your little kitty-cat safe with them.” The clown places a hand upon your shoulder, claws extending from the fingertips of his silk gloves, “It’s such a long way to Providence and I don’t like the idea of you driving so late at night. Might be _dangerous_. So you better run along home, babydoll. While you still can…”

_Shit._

_He knows._

_How the fuck does he know?_

You’re glued to the spot, staring up into the implacable white face.

“I don’t…I don’t understand…”

Penny’s eyes blaze _red_ and his voice rises into a _roar_ , freezing the blood in your veins.

“Don’t _lie_ to me, you little _cunt_.”

And then you’re backing away, stumbling over your own feet, and you start to _run_ , like you’ve never run before, through the carnival, past your friends, and all the way home, ignoring the burning of your lungs and the frantic pounding of your heart.

_Running to beat the devil._

When you finally reach the house, you remember that your car-keys are in your pocket, and you consider your options; it would be so easy to just get into the car and _drive_ , drive straight out of this hell-town and keep going. Providence, or wherever. It doesn’t matter now.

Anywhere but _here_.

You can’t, though. You have to take care of Frank, first.

_And your parents. You can’t leave without saying goodbye._

You pause to catch your breath, leaning against the fencepost for a moment, and then you head inside, fumbling for the light switch.

_Dead._

“Shit.”

You take the stairs two at a time. Frank is prowling at the top, his tail swishing with agitation, and you scoop him into your arms and move quickly into the bedroom, suddenly remembering your clothes and the holdall. You flick the switch, feeling a rush of relief when the room fills with light, and then Frank lets out a _hiss_ and violently scrabbles out of your arms, and out of the door.

Pennywise is lounging upon your bed, dangling a pair of your panties from one gloved finger.

Your eyes widen with terror, your heart skips a beat, and you turn towards the door, only to find it shut.

_Locked._

Penny chuckles, “I don’t think your cat likes me.”

You grimace, gritting your teeth in a parody of a smile, “Yeah. He’s pretty smart.”

The clown shrugs, his red lips lifting at the corner, in a mischievous smirk, “Your _pussy_ likes me, though. Oh yes, your pussy _really_ likes me, doesn’t it? I can smell it from here, babydoll.”

You move towards the bed, trying to stay calm, and fill your arms with clothes, stuffing them carelessly into the holdall. You keep your eyes on the task, despite the weight of Pennywise’s gaze upon your trembling frame, “I don’t have time for this, Pen, so just cut it out. I’m leaving Derry tonight, right now, and you’re _not_ going to stop me.”

The clown snorts, flicking your panties across the room, “I don’t have to stop you, baby. Give it a week, two weeks maybe, and you’ll be back, begging for ol’ Penny’s cock.”

You roll your eyes, “If that’s true, why are you here? Why did you corner me, at the carnival?”

“Thought you could do with one last fuck, before you go. Call it a leaving present.” Penny nudges his foot against your elbow insistently, smirking, “And I’m right, aren’t I? Mmm? You want me to fuck you, don’t you babydoll?”

You don’t answer. You’re struggling with the holdall, trying to force the zipper shut, your jaw clenched with frustration. Penny slinks across the bed, his gloved hands covering your own, and you manage it together, the zipper closing with an audible _zzzppp._

Penny smiles, patting your hand, “See, I’m even helping you pack.”

You eye him closely, distrustfully, “What do you _want_ , Penny? Why can’t you just let me go?” Your voice rises, tearful and almost shrill in the stillness of the room, “You don’t _need_ me. You could have anyone…”

The clown wraps his arms around you, grasping your waist, “Yeah, I could, if I wanted anyone else. But I want _you_ , and you want me, don’t you?” He fills his hands with your breasts, pulling you against him. His fingers massage your nipples through the thin material of your vest, and you gasp, arching into his touch. He smirks, biting down upon your shoulder, “Broke you in, just the way I like it, so why should I waste my time with someone else? And you’re so _sweet_ , babydoll, so sweet and hot for me. You’re _mine_ , {y/n}, and I don’t give up what’s mine, not ever.”

You drive your elbow into his ribs. He grunts, loosening his grip, and you wriggle free and fall to the floor, crawling towards the window. You’ll break it, if you have to; fuck the deposit, fuck the holdall, and fuck Derry.

“Oho, you little _bitch_.”

Penny’s fingers close around your ankle, dragging you back, and then you’re being hoisted up into the air and _thrown_ across the room, landing upon the bed. You bounce, almost rolling off the side, but Penny is there, on top of you, pinning you beneath his weight. His eyes are red and he is laughing, showing his fangs, shaking his head at your impudence.

“I love your spirit, baby. I love your _fire._ ” The clown drags his tongue across your cheek, licking away your helpless tears. He grasps your chin between strong fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes, “But you _ever_ pull a stupid stunt like that again and I’ll break your jaw. You hear me, {y/n}? I’ll break _you_.”

“Do it, then.” You hiss, like Frank, baring your teeth, “Go on, do it. _Kill_ me, you bastard.”

Penny chuckles, “No, I won’t kill you, baby. But I’m going to hurt you. Oh _yes_ , I’m going to _hurt_ you.” He rolls you over, onto your stomach, ignoring your pathetic attempts to escape, to fight back. He straddles your thighs and plants his hands upon your shoulders, holding you down, “You’re not gonna be able to walk for a week after this, babydoll.” Penny leans over you, to whisper in your ear, his breath rasping against your skin, “Not gonna be able to _run_ anywhere.”

He pulls away, his hands trailing the length of your spine, and then he yanks your shorts down, yanks your _panties_ down, exposing your bare cheeks. You know what’s coming but you scream anyway, throwing your head back as he slaps your ass, once, twice, three times, hard enough to leave the imprint of his hand upon your tender skin.

“Such a naughty girl, such a _bad_ girl, trying to run away from Daddy.”

You whimper, squirming beneath him, but he is relentless. Your buttocks are burning, stinging from the blows, but you can feel your cunt tingling, despite the pain, despite your _horror_ , and you rub your thighs together, trying to alleviate the deep ache within your core.

Penny grasps your hips, his claws sinking into you, “Get that sweet ass up in the air, you little slut. I think it’s time to remind you who runs this town.”

“Fuck you.” Your words are muffled into the pillow, but he hears you, and he freezes above you, his fingertips brushing over the cleft of your ass.

And then he laughs, “Oh no, _no_ {y/n}. Fuck _you_.” He hikes your ass up, in one fluid motion. You hear a guttural rasp, like some kid trying to hock a loogie at the back of the classroom, and then you feel something warm and _wet_ splatter against your asshole.

“Get _off_ me!” You gasp, trying to twist away from him, scowling over your shoulder at the clown, “That’s _disgusting_ , I can’t believe you just did that, you creep!”

Penny hawks again, deep in his throat, and spits into your cleft, rubbing the saliva into your anus with two fingers. He plants his other hand upon the small of your back, holding you down as he slips the tip of a finger into you, patiently working you open.

“Gotta slick you up, baby. Unless you’d rather I go in dry?” You don’t answer, but your horrified expression says it all, and he snorts, rolling his eyes, “Thought not. You’re lucky I’m even bothering; I _should_ fuck you dry, make it _really_ hurt, after all the trouble you’ve caused me. That’d teach you a lesson.”

The colour drains from your face; surely not? Surely he wouldn’t be so cruel?

_Of course he would, you idiot._

Penny works one wet finger into you, and then another, steadily pressing into your body, “But we’ve never done _this_ before, have we? In fact, I don’t think you’ve done this with _anyone_. Have you? _No?_ Well then, it wouldn’t be fair to ruin it for you. Should be _special_ , your first time.” He chortles, scissoring his fingers relentlessly, smirking at your reaction, suddenly arching your back and moaning beneath him, “Gonna fuck your little virgin asshole, {y/n}. Oh, you’ll be shittin’ clown cum tomorrow, baby. Been so long since I fucked you, my balls are _full_ , and it’s all for you.”

_Lucky me._

You make one last attempt to wriggle away, trying to roll yourself from under his bulk, but Penny’s not having any of it. The hand at the small of your back moves to your nape, long fingers stretching to close around your neck, pressing down upon the hollow of your throat until you can hardly breathe. After a few moments, you stop struggling, dimly realising that your efforts to escape are doing you more harm than good. Penny removes his hand from your neck, slipping it beneath your stomach, stroking through your pubic hair. He holds two fingers flat against your clit and you grunt into the pillow, bucking wildly; you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to evade his touch or get closer, but you aren’t able to do much more than writhe back and forth, not with him on top of you, crushing you into the mattress.

The clown is still twisting his fingers into your ass, but the other hand is barely moving, much to your sudden frustration. Eventually, he crooks a finger, exerting the lightest pressure upon your clit, and you groan, desperately rocking your hips.

“That’s it, doll. Rub yourself on my fingers. You wanna cum tonight, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

You do as he says, hating yourself, even as you begin slowly sliding your cunt against the proffered digits, already wet and open for him. It doesn’t take much time for the heat to build in your pelvis, burning through you like a wildfire, and you sob loudly, grinding yourself against his fingers, pushing his hand hard between your cunt and the mattress.

“Think you’re ready for me, baby. Just keep doing that, just keep goin’, and ol’ Pennywise will do the rest.” He withdraws his fingers from your anus, placing his hand between your shoulder-blades, his voice snarling with rough laughter, “Let’s make some magic, sweet little thing.”

He shifts slightly, fumbling with the buttons of his suit, and then you feel his cock sliding between your cheeks, thick and pulsating. Your eyes go wide and you consider making one last-ditch effort to get away, but you know that you’re better off staying where you are, frantically working yourself to orgasm on the clown’s long fingers. Penny must have read your mind, or at least guessed what you were thinking; the hand upon your back is gone, now wrapped around his dick, and he quickly aligns himself with your hole and pushes home, with a low growl.  

“Shit!”

You push back with a loud yelp, your muscles clenching against this alien sensation, this _invasion_ , trying to push him out.

“Ah, _ahh_ , fuck!” You curse into the pillow, shaking your head, “Holy shit, Pen, that _hurts!_ Ah!”

Penny hasn’t moved yet, seemingly content to wait for you to adjust to the feeling, but your cries quickly rouse him into movement.

“Damn, babydoll. You’re so _tight._ Squeezing me like a vice.” You’re still complaining, loudly. He gives your ass a light slap, clicking his tongue in disapproval, “Don’t be a wimp, {y/n}. Can’t hurt all that much, I slicked you up real good. It feels different, that’s all. You gotta give it time.”

You snort, still twisting beneath him, “Easy for you to say. You didn’t have a huge cock just shoved up your ass.” Grimacing, you bite your lip, trying to concentrate on his fingers instead, still held flush against your slippery cunt.

“It’s _huge_ , is it? Your imagination is so limited, darling.” Penny chuckles, rapping his palm against your ass again, “I can make it _bigger_ , you know. Really stretch you out.”

_Oh, hell no._

You’re about to leap right off the bed and out of the window when he suddenly pushes his pointer finger into your cunt, sliding his thumb against your clit at the same time, and you can’t do a damn thing after that. You just about manage to gaze back at Penny, over your shoulder, trying to keep a reproachful expression. The clown just smiles innocently, swirling his thumb over your folds, over your _clit_ , and your face crumples into a moaning _mess_ , all flushed and slack with pleasure.

“My turn.”

He starts to move his hips, one hand grasping at your buttocks, the other wedged firmly between your thighs. It doesn’t hurt now, if it ever had hurt to begin with, and you move with him, tentatively at first, still getting used to the sensation of being so _full._ Penny pulls his cock out of you, and then pushes _into_ you, the muscles of your sphincter burning as he breaches you, sliding in to the hilt, until he is balls-deep in your ass. You groan, clenching around his cock and his fingers, both holes stretched taut.

“So _fucking_ tight. Oh babydoll, I am going to _ruin_ you.”

His voice is hoarse, roiling violently like thunderous storm-clouds.

Suddenly, you feel strong again, knowing that you can make _him_ sound like _that_.

You feel _ferocious._

You smirk back at him, arching your back, “Stop talking and _do_ it, then. _Ruin me_. Fuck me, clown.”

Penny is taken aback, his eyes narrowing doubtfully, but it doesn’t last long. He bares his fangs in a grin, sliding one clawed finger across your spine, and you suddenly feel even _fuller_ , if that is possible. Your jaw drops as you realise that his cock is _growing_ , it’s growing _inside_ you, getting longer and harder and _thicker_ , until you can’t take it anymore and you scream for mercy.

The clown laughs, triumphant and spiteful, but he obliges. After what seems like an eternity, his cock shrinks, but it’s still bigger than usual, stretching your asshole wide, until the pinkness of your rectum gapes around his thick shaft.

_Bastard._

“Time to cum for me, {y/n}. Cum on my fingers, little slut, and then Daddy Pennywise will fill you up.”

And you do, _oh_ you _do_. You cum so hard that you see stars, you see _galaxies_ in the red shadows behind your eyelids, and he pounds into you, fucking you down into the bed, his hand buried deep in your hair, yanking your head back. His tongue lathers your face, your jawline, pushing into your ear, and then he erupts into you with a roar, coating your insides with his heat.

The clown collapses onto you, almost crushing the air from your lungs, and then he gathers you into his arms and rolls aside, pulling you with him. You’re limp, boneless in his embrace, your legs quaking, your hair plastered to your face with sweat.

Penny murmurs against your shoulder, slipping a finger between your buttocks, to rub against your asshole. You shudder, flinching from his touch, and he smiles, “You’re gonna feel that in the morning, baby.”

You grunt irritably, “Well, I’m feeling it _now_ , so thanks a bunch for that.”

He laughs, grazing his teeth against your skin, “I _want_ you to feel it. I want you bruised and aching, with my smell all over you, and my cum leaking out of you. And then you’ll remember who owns you.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Not likely to forget, am I? Not after tonight.”

You don’t really want to talk about this. The loss of the new life you were building, the _freedom_ you could almost taste, is all too fresh. And you’re pretty exhausted, too; your body is warm and heavy, in that post-coital haze, and your eyelids are drooping, as Penny’s rumbling voice lulls you into a light doze.

“Good.” He settles back, folding his arms behind his head, “That’s settled, then. You’re staying? Not gonna try to run?”

“Don’t have much choice, do I?”

“Nope.” Penny’s tone is cheerful. He places a hand upon the small of your back, rubbing soothingly, “But if it makes you feel better, I’m planning on taking a long vacation myself. A really long _nap_ , down in the sewers. Next year, after summer. You can do whatever the hell you want then, once I’m asleep.”

Suddenly, you’re not tired anymore. You twist in his arms, eyeing him suspiciously, “What are you talking about? You don’t sleep.”

_And it’s true, he doesn’t sleep. Not really. He might close his eyes and snooze lightly, after sex or…or after a particularly large meal, but he doesn’t sleep._

Penny rolls his eyes, evidently reading your thoughts again, “I _do_ sleep, actually. Oh yeah, I’m a big fan of sleeping. _Hibernating._ That’s what I do. I sleep for twenty seven years, and then I wake up for a year or two, and then I go back to sleep.”

_Oddly enough, it makes sense. Shit does seems to hit this town every…oh, every twenty seven fucking years, or so. And it’s a shit town most of the time, but things seems to get just that much worse every now and again. Right on schedule._

_And that’s why you hadn’t seen Pennywise before that first time, in early June of this year._

_Because you’re only twenty three._

_You would have noticed a demonic alien clown thing hanging around town. But he hadn’t been around; he had been sleeping, all this time._

_Yeah. Totally makes sense._

Still, your mind is blown. He has never mentioned this, before now. Not to you at least. You relax into his arms, not quite knowing what to make of it. You know he’s waiting for a reaction though, so you curl against him, your face open and thoughtful, “Geez, no wonder you’re always hungry. I’d be _starving_ , after napping for that long. I’d probably want a cheeseburger, though, and fries. Not people.”

You stifle a yawn mid-sentence, blinking up at him with tired eyes.

Penny chuckles, tapping your backside, “Get some sleep, babydoll.”

You pull away, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and pulling your panties up, “Yeah, I just need to make some calls first, seeing as my plans have changed.” Remembering the clown’s earlier words, you glance down at him, trying not to look too hopeful, “So, after you’re sleeping, you won’t care if I leave town? You won’t…you won’t come looking for me? Or hurt anyone?”

Penny holds up one hand, affecting a solemn expression, “Baby, I won’t give a shiny shit about you, or anyone else in this rat-hole. Scout’s honour.”

_It almost hurts, truth be told._

_Hearing him say that he won’t care about you. That he won’t give a shit about you._

_Yeah, that’s pretty rough._

_Because you know you’ll miss him, despite it all._

A cigar materialises before your eyes, out of nowhere. Penny plucks it out of the air, rolling it between his fingers, “Just stick around until then, doll. We’ll have some laughs, I’ll fuck you senseless, and then we’ll go our separate ways. I go to sleep, you go to Providence, and we part as unlikely friends. What have you got to lose?”

_Oh, nothing much._

_Other than my sanity._

_Whatever’s left of it, anyway._

_Nothing much at all._

You manage a smile, “Sounds good to me, Pen.” And then you reach out, swiping the cigar from between his teeth before he can light it, “If you’re going to smoke, do it outside. I rent this place and the landlord is a real bastard. You can go out back, if you want. No one will see you.”

Penny rolls his eyes, “You’re breaking my balls, wifey.” But he heads downstairs, muttering obscenities at Frank, who hisses at him from a safe distance along the hallway.

You make the phone calls, apologising for the lateness, for the inconvenience; you call your parents, your boss, your landlord, your friend in Providence, and then your best friend, and you’re shattered by the end of it.

_Shattered by the excuses and the lies._

Still, they all took the news better than expected. None of them had wanted you to leave Derry, with the exception of your old college friend, who had been looking forward to your visit.

You let Frank out into the backyard, murmuring more apologies to the cat for exposing him to such unimaginable evil. Penny is nowhere to be seen and you reckon that he’s probably gone back to his lair, in the sewers, or to the trailer in the woods. Or maybe he’s stopped off at the carnival, for a midnight snack.

_Ugh._

_You really hope that your high-school crush made it home safely._

_Poor guy._

You lock the backdoor and head upstairs, more than ready for bed, for some peace and quiet. Only…

_There’s a clown in your bed._

_A clown, wearing a vest and boxers._

_Reading one of your old horror paperbacks, with a bemused smile lifting the corners of his red mouth._

You sigh, climbing in beside him, “Thought you were going home?”

He shrugs, “I will, if thats what you want.”

You shake your head, curling against him, “No, you can stay.”

_I want you to stay._

Pennywise smirks, ruffling your hair, “I like my coffee black and my bacon _rare_ , just so you know.”

“I am _not_ cooking you breakfast, clown.”

“Go to sleep, babydoll.”

You close your eyes, smiling softly, “I hate you.”

“I know. Go to sleep.”


End file.
